


Rising In Love

by Ryaninthesky



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Evil!veronica seducing mostlyinnocent!betty, F/F, ok maybe medium slow burn, one summer can change everything, the slowest of burns, they'll get there eventually I promis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10112846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryaninthesky/pseuds/Ryaninthesky
Summary: At sixteen, Veronica Lodge is rich, spoiled, and attending the Toni Morrison Summer Writing Seminar. She sees no reason why she shouldn't have a summer fling with her roommate, Betty Cooper, especially after one of her friends makes a bet that it will never happen.As Morrison herself told Betty, one summer can change everything.





	1. Chapter 1

“Don’t ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn’t fall in love, I rose in it.” - Jazz, Toni Morrison.

 

* * *

 There was a girl, because of course there was, because while there had been many, many boys, there was always a girl.

There was a girl, and her name was Betty Cooper, and Veronica had fallen instantly in want.

* * *

 It was the beginning of summer vacation, a sickly hot June day in Lawrence, Kansas, and the weather was just one on a very long list of things Veronica Lodge was blaming for the terrible day she was having. The Toni Morrison Society having the audacity to schedule their summer seminar in Kansas was pretty high up there, though. Popular, pretty high school students should not have to suffer simply because the president of the society had apparently made a charity case of whatever ‘Wizard of Oz’ rejects inhabited this barren plain.

In short, the president of the Toni Morrison Society taught in Kansas, the Toni Morrison Summer Writing Seminar was in Kansas, so now Veronica Lodge was in Kansas.

And apparently Kansas even managed to fuck up the simplest instructions regarding the care of New York teen socialites.

“I’m sorry _mija_ , but I’m not going to have the dean of the university fired just because you have a double room instead of a single.” Hermione Lodge had always done her best to instill humility and selflessness in her only child; unfortunately, she was usually preempted by her husband, who bought Veronica everything she wanted, and their social class, which taught Veronica that the ability to do so was the only thing that mattered. “It will be good for you, to meet some other people. How will your writing improve if you never experience anything beyond Park Avenue?”

“I’m fine with observing it, _mami_ , I don’t need to _wallow_ in it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Think of it as suffering for your art, then. But I need to get going, I have to be back in New York for your father’s dinner. Smithers!” She called. “The bags, please.”

Veronica pouted, but she considered herself far too mature at sixteen to throw a tantrum in public. If her mother was not going to see reason, she supposed she would have to persevere as best she could in these trying times. At least Sabrina and Sis would be here soon; she could avoid these cornfed hicks as much as possible.

The room itself, on a floor of the freshman dorm reserved for seminar participants, would have been barely habitable for two people let alone one Veronica. The closet, of course, was totally unacceptable, and she was glad she’d spent several days at home coordinating outfits for maximum adaptability. Dressing to express was as much an art as writing, and Veronica had perfectly honed her craft. The rest of the room - two twin beds, two faux-wood desks, and two torturous-looking chairs - she had expected, planned for, and decided to approach philosophically. A few hipster/bohemian chic touches and she could stand to describe the accommodations to her friends back in New York as ‘terrible, of course, but one does what one can.’

“Hardly the Ritz, darling, but you’ll be fine.” Hermione kissed Veronica’s cheek. “And I have to get going. Call when you can, but don’t forget we have dinner with the Jones’s tomorrow and the theatre on Friday.” She stepped back to look at her daughter, all grown up. All too soon she wouldn’t be sending her daughter away for the summer but for college, and then forever. On a whim, she unclasped the string of pearls from her neck and circled it around her daughters. “So I’ll still be with you. I’ll miss you so much, mija. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.” Veronica hugged her mom, feeling slightly childish but not enough to let go. There was no one around to see anyway. “Have a good flight.” With a final wave, Hermione and Smithers left Veronica standing in the middle of a strange room, alone and away from home for the first time in her life. It was an odd feeling, and Veronica hated it.

“Hey.”

With a startled yelp - she kind of hated that too - Veronica spun around. In the doorway was another girl, as different from Veronica as night from day. Veronica automatically appraised the newcomer; pretty (gorgeous, really) in a girl-next-door sort of way. Blonde hair, green eyes, red flannel shirt, jeans, and honest-to-God Chuck Taylors. She looked like an Americana wet dream. Veronica wanted to devour her.

The girl blushed at Veronica’s frank gaze. “Betty Cooper. If you’re Veronica Lodge, I’m your roommate.”

Veronica’s lips slid back into a predatory smile as she took Betty’s outstretched hand, using it to draw herself closer and pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek. She’s bet her last pair of Jimmy Choos that she was a virgin, and would give very good odds that she’d never been kissed, either, from the way her breath hitched slightly and the tendons in her neck twisted as she swallowed. The slightly alcoholic scent of cheap perfume hit Veronica with her next breath and the pulse of adrenaline she felt skittered through her veins like a drug.

Suddenly this summer seemed alive with possibility.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Betty.” She pulled back, careful to subtly trail her fingers over Betty’s wrist. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

Betty looked a little bit like she’d been hit by...well, not quite a truck, but maybe a Porsche. Something small and sleek and expensive, like the girl who was apparently her new roommate for the next few weeks. To the small-town Riverdale girl, Veronica seemed impossibly cool and mature. It made her feel tongue-tied and flustered.

“Y-yeah, I hope so. Nice to meet you too.” She automatically moved to step into the room and stumbled slightly on the bags she’d left forgotten at her feet.

“Be careful!” Veronica exclaimed, catching Betty’s wrist before she could fall. “You don’t want to break your arm before the writing even starts.”

_This girl is very close to me_. Betty thought, the renewed contact - _why is there so much touching?_ \- momentarily blanking her brain, and just when she’d managed to form words and sentences and was starting to feel pretty good about herself. The Coopers were not a very physically demonstrative family. Of course she and her sister hugged often, but for someone whose best friends had been boys since the time they were in diapers, and who didn’t, living in Riverdale, meet a lot of strangers….it was a little much. All together it made Betty feel like she was being swept up in a very fashionable tornado, just trying to keep her feet under her and breath in her lungs, and not doing a very good job of either so far.

“Where are your other bags?” Veronica was picking one up and moving it carefully out of the way, leaving only the one the Betty had tripped over.

“That’s all I have.” Now that she’d (mostly) dealt with meeting her new roommate, Betty took her first proper look at their room...and the discrepancy between her two duffel bags and Veronica’s pile of very expensive, very large suitcases.

“Oh. You’re so lucky, though; I’m sure with your figure anything looks good.” Veronica said, a little bit of uncertainty coloring her voice as she tried to soften the _faux pas_. She could be a bitch, yes, but she hadn’t actually meant to be rude to Betty. She’d just never seen anyone bring so few bags for a weekend trip, let alone several weeks. Poor people really were different.

Since both Betty and Veronica had arrived early in the day, they had plenty of time to unpack and get their room set up. It helped that the lion’s share of decisions were made by Veronica. ‘I hate having the sun in my eyes when I wake up, would you mind taking that bed? Thanks so much.’ Still, Betty was exhausted when everything was finally arranged around dinnertime. She left her new roommate sorting shoes and went to find the dining hall.

As it turned out, college dining halls weren’t much different from high school cafeterias, with the exception of a truly impressive cereal bar. Gathering her tray, Betty scanned the dining room; not knowing anyone made her nervous, but she’d come to the seminar to meet new people and have new experiences, so she steeled herself and approached one of the tables.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Go for it.”

There were only two other students sitting at the table, a brown-haired girl with a punk vibe and band shirt, and a slim and stylish boy with pale skin, blue eyes, and platinum-blonde hair.

“I’m Betty.” She introduced herself.

“Brigitte Reilly.” The girl stuck out a hand. “How’s it going?”

“And I’m Casper McFadden.” The boy replied. He had been furiously scribbling in a notebook when Betty walked up, but he quickly closed it and put a hand on it protectively. “So, where are you from, Superteen?”

Brigitte slapped him lightly with a spoon. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot. He’s been giving nicknames to everyone who walks in.”

“Well I have to entertain myself somehow. So, miss blonde and green-eyed All-American, please explain yourself. We’re waiting with baited breath.”

Betty’s eyebrows rose a little in surprise at the sudden interrogation, but she supposed it was one way to get to know people. “I’m from Riverdale, actually.”

“Cool!” said Brigitte. “I’m in Centerville; we’re practically neighbors!”

Casper groaned. “Oh my God, you absolute _hicks_.”

“He thinks he can look down on everyone because he lives in New York now.” Brigitte stage-whispered to Betty. “But don’t let him fool you. He lived down the street from me until he was ten.”

He huffed and grabbed a fry from Brigitte’s plate. “How I’m supposed to maintain an aura of romantic mystery with you around I’m sure I don’t know.”

“You’re doing fine.” Betty laughed. “And Centerville is plenty romantic compared to Riverdale. At least you have a social calendar that takes up more than one page.”

Casper grinned. “I _like_ her. Let’s keep her.”

Before Betty could form a response - she didn’t even know what she was going to say, considering her conflicting emotions on being ‘claimed’ and also the pride she was feeling from someone actually wanting to claim her in the first place - a shriek like a banshee nearly made her jump out of her chair.

The whole dining room turned to watch as a short blonde girl screamed “Ronnie!” and enveloped Veronica, who had just entered the room, in a whirlwind of hugs and cheek-kissing.

“Ughhh” Casper groaned with a contempt only one intimately acquainted with a situation could produce. “I can’t believe they actually came.”

“Who?”

“That, my dear friend, is Veronica Lodge.” He answered Brigitte’s question with a flourish. Veronica was now sitting at a table with the loud blonde and a gorgeous redhead, all of them looking like they’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. “And those two harpies flanking her,” he gestured at them one by one with a fry, “are Sabrina Spellman and Melissa Keene. Everyone knows Veronica’s actually as smart as she is ruthless but how those other two passed daycare I’ll never know. I can’t believe she got them to come all the way out here.”

Park Avenue gossip was clearly a familiar topic to Brigitte, who was barely listening to Casper’s rant while eating and humming an unfamiliar tune. Betty, on the other hand, had never been to or even near Park Avenue, and like any other small-town girl, was enraptured. “Do you know them?”

“Acquaintances only; they’re not exactly in my circle of friends. But my best friend’s sister is a sophomore at Spence and she says they practically rule the school. New York’s own live-action ‘Mean Girls.’ I heard Veronica once made a teacher have a nervous breakdown with a look.”

“Oh, come on. Nobody’s like that in real life.” Casper looked personally affronted that she didn’t believe his dramatic gossip. “Veronica’s my roommate and she seemed perfectly nice to me. A little out of touch, maybe, but certainly not some teen drama villain.”

“Oh, honey. Be very careful with that one. The only time I’ve ever heard of Veronica being nice is when she wanted something.” He scanned his eyes over Betty’s body purposefully. “Or someone.”

Betty nearly knocked over her water, sputtering to try and come up with a response.

“We’re, like, a thousand miles from New York Cas, leave the poor kid alone.” Brigitte turned to Betty. “See why I said to ignore him? He thinks everything’s a plot in one of his books.”

“You say gothic horror, I say private school memoir.”

“Veronica’s, uhm, like that? Like, likes girls?” Betty groaned internally at the sentence she just spit out. If she didn’t get her act together she wasn’t going to be able to convince anyone she could pass for a decent writer. Unfortunately, it looked like her poorly-worded ramblings had offended Brigitte.

“Is there a problem with that, Riverdale? I’m bi.”

“No no no!” Betty waved her hands. “My best friend’s gay, of course I don’t have a problem with it! I just...she just doesn’t look like the type.” Brigitte eyed her appraisingly but decided to let Betty off the hook. “Looks aren’t anything. Take Cas here. Shockingly straight.”

The boy grinned. “I’m not gay but I am fabulous. I get all the good dirt letting people think what they want, though. And your Miss Lodge? Rumor has it she makes your wildest all-girls school fantasies look tame.”

“Yours maybe.” Brigitte scoffed.

“I’m not kidding. Jake told me they meet up at the Met every day after school to bum cigarettes from the guys and plan the week’s debauchery, and Wes knows the guy who made their fake IDs.”

“Hearsay and conjecture, and I’m tired of it. Let’s talk about something important.”

The conversation turned to their favorite literature and Betty was glad for the change. She knew how rumors could get twisted and doubted that half of what Casper had said was true, but she still glanced over at Veronica’s table. She couldn’t help it; the other girl intrigued her with her curious mix of alpha bitch reputation and sweet roommate, and Betty was too much a journalist’s daughter not to want to search out the truth in any story. Her gaze was met by mischievous brown eyes, one eyebrow cocked questioningly, as if Veronica knew what she was thinking and was challenging her to dig deeper. Betty blushed at being caught and resolutely turned back to the conversation with her new friends, determined to put Veronica out of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veronica is a little baby!Joan Crawford and Betty is always flustered. Will Betty ever be able to have a conversation without blushing? Stay Tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Please_ tell me you aren't looking at Casper the friendly ghost over there.” Sis’s high, slightly nasal voice cut into Veronica’s thoughts and she realized she’d been staring. “Because you know I love you but if you ever hooked up with that freak I’d have to have you put down for the public good.”

“Wow, thanks Sissy. I’m so glad I have you looking out for me.”

Melissa shrugged, as if to say ‘you’d do the same to me and you know it.’

“Just considering my summer project, girls. What do you think? The tall blonde?” She gestured towards Betty, and both girls twisted in their seats to get a better look, not trying to hide their actions. They ran teen societies; they didn’t need to be subtle.

“Honestly Ronnie, really? You have the most fashionable, exciting men and women in the most fashionable, exciting city in the world chasing you and you want to go after Miss Fried Butter Festival 2016?”

“They’re all sluts like you, Sis, I want a challenge. Something different.”

The blonde, Sabrina, rolled her eyes at both of them. “You two would be so much happier if you’d just pick someone and stick with them.”

“What, like you and Harvey? I’d rather walk around Central Park barefoot.”

“Yeah, talk about boring.”

Sabrina regarded them haughtily over the edge of her Starbucks cup. She and her on-again, off-again boyfriend had been on-again for over six months this time, and it made her feel very mature compared to the other girls. She never failed to remind them of this fact, either.

“You’re just jealous. When you’re really in love with someone, it’s... different. Like a magic spell being cast on your heart, and you don’t even want to look at anyone else because you have everything you need right there in one person.” She trailed off, dreamily thinking about her tall, blonde, football-playing boyfriend.

“Yeah, thanks but no thanks Sabby.” Veronica scoffed. “Someone watching your every move, checking your phone, expecting you to spend all your time with them? That’s a prison sentence, not a relationship. Hard pass.”

“What do you even know about it, Veronica Lodge?” Retorted Sabrina, stung. “No one besides those Gwyneth Paltrow-wannabes you hook up with in the back of clubs would even go for you anyway.”

Melissa snickers, because it’s true, Veronica definitely has a type, and that type is tall, fair-haired, and easily controlled. It applies to both boys and girls.

“Please.” Veronica flipped her hair. “I can get anyone I want.”

“Ok, Lodge, bet on it. Hook up with blondie there by the end of the summer. And no ‘let’s practice kissing, wow I’m so drunk bullshit.’ If she’s too drunk to drive, it doesn’t count.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a _challenge_. I was going to do that anyway.”

“Good, it’ll be no problem then.”

“Sabby…” Melissa tried to convey with her eyes what a bad idea she thought this bet was, but Sabrina didn’t seen to be getting it, so she had to resort to words. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You haven’t won a bet with Ronnie in two years.”

“There is no way that girl is hooking up with V. No way. None. Girls like that are president of the student government and debate club and have boring, boy-next-door boyfriends. They don’t experiment with sexy bitches like our Veronica until college.”

“Appreciate the love, S.”

“Anytime, babe.”

“Thanks, but I have a bet to win first. You’ll just have to get in line.”

Melissa flicked her eyes back and forth between the two. It was better (and more entertaining) than the time her daddy got them tickets for the US Open. Although granted, there had been a very large amount of alcohol consumed that weekend...with a delighted laugh she slapped her hand down on the table. “Time out!”

The other girls were clearly used to her antics and remained unfazed, glaring at each other in (mostly) friendly animosity. A boy in at a neighboring table was not so lucky, and ended up spilling Coke all over his shirt in surprise. Melissa briefly turned toward him, the urge to embarrass this clearly lesser being automatic, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

“What are the stakes of this wager?” She’d heard that line in a movie once, and it made her feel very important.

“Shopping spree. Loser pays.” Sabrina spat.

“Fine by me.” Veronica agreed. “Better start figuring out how you’re going to explain that to your aunts.”

“I’m not going to have to explain anything. All you’ve done so far is stare at the girl like a lovesick puppy.”

“Ah see, Sabby dear, that’s where you’re wrong.” Veronica grinned, a cloyingly sweet smile. “Her name’s Betty, and she’s my roommate.”

 

* * *

 

It was almost an hour after curfew when Veronica came creeping back into the room. She hadn’t really meant to be out so late, but as usually happened when she was hanging out with Sis and Sabrina, one thing lead to another. Their relationship was...she really wasn’t sure how to describe it. The two girls were the closest thing she had to friends, even if she wouldn’t necessarily trust them as far as she could throw them. It was more like...a mutual understanding. They were all rich, and in a way that actually meant something in New York. With the money, came notoriety. Melissa was Katy Keene’s _sister,_ so of course hardly a week went by that she wasn’t pictured in some kind of gossip page or fashion blog. Sabrina, the trust fund baby, whose life was ordered by her two eccentric aunts, with the perfect, Ivy-bound boyfriend, often got the least press of any of them, but that was as much careful manipulation on her part as anything else. Sabrina preferred the security offered by staying in the shadows but knowing everything about everyone. It wasn’t malicious, so much, as an exercise in self-preservation. Veronica suspected she cared about the secrets of other because she had some major ones of her own, although it wasn’t really something they talked about, nor was Veronica certain she actually wanted to know. At any rate, it wasn’t a bad idea. As everyone who was anyone in New York well knew, it was a very short distance from queen or king of one of the incredibly exclusive private schools to a seat of power in government or business, and, well, the lessons learned in the classrooms weren’t necessarily the most important ones.

Personally, Veronica found it exhausting. She wasn’t the only sister and ward of one of the most glamorous women in the world, like Sis, nor did she particularly enjoy the machinations of networking and society, like Sabrina. Of course she kept up with them, she wasn’t _stupid_ , it just...at times it all seemed so _small_. She wondered what it was called when you felt like you were going through a midlife crisis at sixteen. ‘Growing up,’ her mother would probably say.  If growing up meant going through the motions for friendships you weren’t even sure you wanted, all for some perceived gain in the future when you either back-stabbed your ‘friends’ or leveraged the relationship to better your own position. Well.

She was probably overthinking it again. The one time she’d cautiously brought up these concerns to her father he’d laughed and kissed her forehead and told her not to worry so much. That this was the way the world worked, and she didn’t have to like it all the time, but if she worked with it she would be happy and safe and successful. “It’s all a game, darling,” he’d soothed into her hair, “play by the rules, be smart, and you’ll win. That’s what we Lodges do.” “But Daddy,” she’d asked. “Don’t you want to have any friends?” He’d chuckled at that. “I have you and your mom; what more do I need?”

Veronica wasn’t sure, except that she still felt something was missing. Maybe it was because daddy always said mom was his best friend. He’d married her, even though they were different in just about everything. So he didn’t need any other friends anymore. Teenage girls were different, Veronica was very sure about that, and being friends with someone shouldn’t mean a confusing struggle between sharing everything you did and constantly watching your back.

 _Maybe something for my book_ , she laughed to herself, then immediately banged her shin against one of the desks with a muffled curse. She hadn’t wanted to wake Betty - she was really too tired to be charming, and she was too proud to not at least try - but at this rate she’d run into everything in the room and wake her up anyway. Cautiously she flipped her phone flashlight on, keeping the beam angled down as much as possible.

“Veronica?” a soft voice froze her steps. Dammit.

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay.” Betty said, sitting up in bed. In the dim light from the flash Veronica could tell that she was wearing a pale pink t-shirt with a...rabbit? On it. For Veronica, tired as she was, it was distractingly adorable. “I mean, I wasn’t really asleep.”

“Oh. Good.”

Betty laughed. “So you can turn on the light if you want. I don’t mind.”

A little more stumbling, and Veronica was able to reach the switch and flick it on, both of them blinking in the sudden glare. With more light than the tiny flash of her cellphone, Veronica could see that while Betty had been in bed when she entered, it didn’t look like she had slept much at all. She looked achingly innocent with her hair down and no makeup, lips full and lightly pink, a small crease on her cheek from the pillow, but her eyes wide and clear and sharply awake. Veronica wondered if she ever looked that _young_ , even though they were the same age. She suddenly felt incredibly disconnected from the blonde, more distant than she’d ever felt from another person. The same age, in the same room, but occupying completely different worlds.

She slowly became aware that the mouth she was staring at was moving, forming words.

“Veronica?”

She shook herself slightly. “Yeah, sorry-” she'd already said that “-it’s...been a long day.” Without thinking she began going through the closet, picking out the soft shorts and (decidedly bunny-less) t-shirt combo she slept in. The motions were simple; pearls off, dress off, slide shirt on, don’t trip over shorts. It gave her a second to think, to relax her mind and narrow her thoughts from self-pity and existential angst - which she hated in others but was just as inclined to as any teenager - to the here-and-now. Stop. Breathe. Let the world take care of itself.

It returned some of her usual confidence to notice that Betty was very seriously studying her phone - and just as pointedly _not_ looking at her - with a slight blush blooming across her cheeks.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Veronica asked, when she was again properly clothed.

“Ah. No, actually.” Betty ducked her head. “It’s my first time away from home. That’s not, y’know, a sleepover or something. My parents aren’t really the summer-camp type. So all of this-” she gestured around the room “-it’s all kind of new. I’m just not used to it yet.” Her head was up, again, and vaguely defiant, daring Veronica to make a crack about her lack of foreign sleeping experiences.

“Me too.” Veronica smiled. “I mean, I’ve traveled, obviously, but it’s always been with my parents.” The weight of her thoughts seemed to melt away with Betty’s answering smile. They didn’t seem so different, now.

“Would you want to maybe, watch something? I have Netflix…”

Veronica hopped onto Betty’s bed. She didn’t think she’d be falling asleep soon anyway, so a little mindless television would be just the thing to distract her until she could settle down into unconscious bliss. Betty placed her laptop between them and let Veronica choose an old Gossip Girl episode from her favorites. They had to sit closely to both see the screen, but neither girl really minded. The physical contact helped keep the loneliness and unfamiliarity of the situation at bay.

Two episodes in, Betty was fast asleep on Veronica’s shoulder, snoring slightly, but the brunette didn’t want to move her. It seemed like so much effort, and she was really comfortable. And...if she was being honest...the thought of moving to her own bed wasn’t very pleasant. Lying here with Netflix running in the background, bathed in the soft glow like a nightlight, it almost seemed like a sleepover. Something fun, something she _knew_. So when Betty mumbled a little in her sleep and snuggled closer, Veronica hit play on the next episode and let her eyes slip closed.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t her alarm that woke her up in the morning, which is why it took Veronica a few minutes to figure out what the hell was going on. Eyes still shut tight, she took a quick mental inventory of her surroundings. Item one - the cheerful little _brrring brrring_ was apparently Betty’s phone going off, and she wondered if the girl had searched out that particular tone or if the phone just came pre-programmed with ‘cheerful morning-people’ alarms. Item two - and she stuck her arm out just for confirmation - she was now alone on Betty’s bed. Concerning, but not quite, well, _alarming_ yet. She opened one eye and began pushing herself off the bed, hoping she didn’t look too much like a horror show.

Betty was sitting at one of the desks, writing in what looked suspiciously like a diary. Honestly, who did that anymore?

“Mmmm. What time is it?”

Betty jumped a little bit, quickly closing the dairy but clearly trying to be casual about it. It made Veronica smile a little. Subterfuge was not her strong suit, but it was cute anyway (and when would she stop finding everything this girl did cute as hell?)

“Almost seven,” she answered.

“Ugh. Okay. Shower first, then breakfast. You in?” Veronica pushed herself off the bed and began gathering her clothes and toiletries.

“Sure.” Betty flashed a smile. “See you there.” But Veronica was already out the door.

Left alone, Betty flipped her diary open to the page she’d been writing on

_Dear Diary,_

_First day at the writing seminar, and it’s already been...interesting. Where to start? The campus is huge; it seems like it takes up the whole town! I know Lawrence, Kansas isn’t the most metropolitan town, but so far I like it a lot. It’s a little like being home._

_We’re all in one dorm, one floor for the girls and one for the boys. I’ve already met a couple of people, Brigitte and Casper. Brigitte’s from Centerville, a musician, and she’s trying to improve her songwriting. Casper’s from New York, but was born in Centerville, too. I’m not sure why he’s here, though. He seems more like the Ray Bradbury type than Toni Morrison. Still, it’s nice to have friends already. They’re sarcastic but funny, and really seem to care about each other. All we need is a diner and it’s like I never left Riverdale._

_Which brings me to my roommate, I guess. Veronica Lodge. Casper talks about her like she’s hell on heels but she’s been really nice to me, if a little weird. It’s like a reverse Wizard of Oz; this fashionable tornado of a person blows through Kansas from another world and changes everything forever. Ha, maybe I’ll use that for a short story sometime. But for a New York City society belle she’s been surprisingly sweet. It was a good reminder that even though we’re from different places, we’re still just teenagers, away from home for the first time. Casper’s probably just getting bad information; you know how rumors are. Everything gets blown out of proportion. I’m not going to be prejudiced just because she has a reputation._

_Casper said she’s bi, too,_  she wrote, then quickly struck out. She didn’t want to feel homophobic, even in her diary. It didn’t actually matter if Veronica liked girls or boys or no one at all. It wasn't important, and she refused to make it important.

She closed her diary resolutely, stuffing it inside the desk drawer. She’d have to hurry, if she wanted to get breakfast before the first workshop started, but she still paused for a minute, taking a breath. She allowed herself to feel the anticipation of the next few weeks like electricity in the air, sparking over her skin. It felt like...the future she’d been dreaming of since she’d started feeling bonds of her parent’s control tight around her was finally within reach. In this new place, she was a _new_ Betty Cooper, who made _new_ friends who hadn’t known her since she was in diapers, who liked her for who she was _now_ . A Betty Cooper who was finally figuring out what _mattered_ to her. A Betty Cooper who could keep pace with her rich, glamorous roommate.

It felt like freedom, and it was _intoxicating._

 

* * *

 

Veronica looked for all the world like she’d been dropped out of a Parisian street cafe. Somehow, she’d found time to find the Starbucks on campus - Riverdale still didn’t have one, and even if they had, Betty preferred milkshakes to coffee anyway - and she was sipping from a cup as she scrolled through her phone, a plate of fruit and a small muffin half-eaten on the table in front of her. In sneakers and a button-up shirt, Betty felt very under dressed in comparison to the other girl’s all-black ensemble and pearls. But Veronica brightened when she saw her and pushed the cup into her hands.

“You have to try this. Sun-dried Ethiopian Shakiso. The Starbucks here has a Clover; thank God for small favors.”

Betty wasn’t sure what made sun-drying better than the regular kind, but dutifully took a sip, almost burning her tongue in the process. It tasted like...coffee. Better than what her parents drank, but still bitter and black.

“Good, right? The floral and fruits really come through.”

“Uhm, yeah.” Betty took a sip, hoping she’d magically acquired an appreciation for fancy bean water upon hearing what she was supposed to be tasting. Nope. Still the same, only with added notes of embarrassment and the lingering aroma of unsophistication. “It’s really good, Ronnie.”

This prompted a satisfied smile from Veronica, clearly glad to have shared this experience with the blonde, even more so since Betty agreed with her. She checked her phone and quickly started to get up.

“Better get moving, _chica._ First workshop in fifteen. I’ll meet you there? I left my stuff in the room.” Veronica winked at her, then was gone in a swirl of perfume, heels fading behind Betty as she hurried to the breakfast buffet, grabbing a bagel and some napkins, almost dropping both when someone fell into step beside her.

“Glad to see you survived the night.” Casper said.

Betty rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint, but Veronica and I fell asleep watching Gossip Girl, not having topless pillow fights or drinking blood or whatever it is you think girls do.”

“Hey, I’ve seen movies; I was expecting illegal substances and incriminating selfies.”

“Idiot.”

“But seriously. Everything was ok?”

“Seriously. It was fine. Veronica was fine. No lingering mental scars for anyone” She laughed. “We should all hang out; you’ll see, she’s just as normal as you are. Maybe more.”

“A ringing endorsement.” He still didn’t seem pleased, but dropped the subject, offering increasingly outlandish ideas for their first writing workshop instead. Somewhere in the middle of radioactive zombie bites conferring superpowers on unsuspecting teenagers, they walked into the lecture hall. Veronica was sitting near the front - also Betty’s preferred classroom spot - bag in the seat next to her and imperiously glaring at anyone who came too close.

“Brigitte’s got us seats, if you want?” He trailed off, clearly expecting her to say she was sitting with Veronica. Honestly, she hadn’t really thought about it yet, and had no idea if Veronica even wanted to sit with her. After all, they barely knew each other, and Veronica had specifically come here with her own group of friends. They were living together; Betty didn’t want to presume that Veronica wanted to hang out with her uninvited, when they would by necessity be spending so much time with each other. Better not to impose, than make a nuisance of herself; she could almost feel her mothers admonitions to be polite ringing in her ears.

“Yeah, sounds good.” She smiled at Casper, following him up the stairs to where Brigitte was closely guarding a couple of seats in the back. Almost as soon as they sat down, the professor entered the room and Betty hurried to get her laptop out of her bag, excitement rising in her throat at the first official moments of the seminar.

 

* * *

 

To Betty’s great disappointment, the first workshop was devoted almost entirely to laying out the summer curriculum, ‘get to know you’ exercises where every one of the thirty-odd students had to stand up and say something about themselves, and an overview of Toni Morrison’s life and best-known works. For Veronica, however, this was the best possible scenario, since she had spent a large majority of the time resisting the urge to glare at the trio behind her and plotting various complicated revenge fantasies against the fair-haired boy who had come between her and Betty. She could feel Sabrina’s eyes on her, as well, could almost hear the laughter from her when the workshop had begun and the seat she had specifically saved for Betty remained empty. It hurt, feeling like the second choice, a very uncommon feeling for Veronica Lodge. She hated it.

Veronica took her time packing up after the workshop was over, watching from the corner of her eye as Brigitte and Betty walked out of the room, talking animatedly. She quickly stepped in front of Casper before he could follow them.

“I want a word, McFadden.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not today, Satan.”

She grabbed his collar. “I’m not kidding. I want to know what you’ve been telling Betty about me.”

“Don’t worry, you have her totally fooled with the ‘misunderstood heroine’ act. She hasn’t even been paying attention to my sage advice.”

“I’m not trying to ruin her life, honestly, who do you think I am? We’ll have a little fun and then I’ll go back to New York and she’ll go back to River City and she’ll have an exciting story to tell her friends over milkshakes. No harm, no foul.”

“So you are trying to get in her pants.” He smirked and she cursed herself for tipping her hand to this idiot.

“I’m trying to tell you to stay out of it if you know what’s good for you.”

“You can’t do anything to me.”

“To you? Maybe not. But I can and will make life a living hell for Wendy if I have to. It’s up to you McFadden. All you have to do is stop spreading rumors about things you don’t know anything about anyway.”

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

“Bitches get shit done.”

“Fine. I’m sure you’ll find a way to fuck this all up on your own. Betty’s not like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Betty’s pure. Innocent. She actually cares about people and small animals and apple pie and all of that bullshit. She actually _believes_ in it.”

“What is it with you and thinking I’m a bad tv villain? I care about people. Not you, obviously, but people worth caring about. And who doesn’t like puppies? I just know what I want and I’m not afraid to go after it. That doesn’t make me a _monster_ , it makes me honest.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Am I dismissed, your highness?”

“Go to hell.” She growled, pushing past him and into the hall. Casper seemed to deflate as soon as she left, all fight leaving him and being replaced by a gnawing worry deep in his belly for his new friend. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was time for a little damage control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, like Ryan Murphy, have a great love for early Gwyneth Paltrow. Since she went to Spence, I felt it only right she be included in this chapter.
> 
> Loved it? Hated it? Can't contain your beronica feelings? Hit me up on tumblr at ryaninthesky12


	3. Chapter 3

Veronica did not sit with Betty at lunch. She sat with her friends instead, enduring Sabrina’s pointed barbs and Sis’s half-hearted attempts at actual conversation. For the one, her attention wasn’t really needed; Sabrina was going to say what she said, and would probably feel better at the lack of a response than if Veronica brought her full cattiness to bear on the situation. And for the other, well, suffice it to say that she simply didn’t feel inclined to engage in meaningless gossip at the moment. Not when the alternative was staring moodily into her glass of water and sneaking glances across the dining hall that stretched on perhaps a bit too long to be truly deemed subtle.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Veronica told herself, but her pride was stung, an injury she took neither often nor well. Betty did not sit with her in one class; she could overlook that. From what she knew of Betty so far she was a genuinely nice, friendly person who would go along with the group rather than stand out too much. But then she had had to intervene by putting Casper in his place, a move that made her stomach crawl with anxiety. It had felt good at the time, an exchange she participated often in in New York; lay down the law, bare a little tooth - it let each person know exactly where they stood and with whom. There were  _ rules  _ to these sorts of things. But now she was unsure. Casper McFadden wasn’t a true New Yorker. He could be unpredictable, and he had shown a worrying affinity towards Betty. Who knew what kind of lies he might be making up about her right now, while she sat over here brooding, unable to refute them? 

Their interaction had left her unsettled. When she had first met Betty, first decided on this glorious summer romance, she’d taken it for granted that their worlds would never connect. That she and Betty would be the only two points of contact for their respective lives, bonded by the summer Veronica had foolishly been planning out for them in her fantasies. They had met, would flirt and kiss and play, then withdraw like waves from the shore, never to be present again the way they had in this time and place. It was beautiful. It was all in her head. Casper had ruined that, blown up the carefully constructed walls of her imaginings, left her mourning the summer she  _ should  _ have had. It had belonged to her, like a piece of art or a dress, and she didn't share well with others.

To add to the insult, Betty hadn’t so much as glanced her way in any of the other classes. Of course, Veronica hadn’t repeated the mistake of saving a seat for her. She’d sat alone in the second period, just for appearances, then with Sabrina and Sis in the third, just before lunch. Even with plenty of time in between the lectures, Betty still hadn’t said anything to Veronica! Of course, Veronica hadn’t gone out of her way to say anything to Betty, either, but this turnabout didn’t occur to her. She was used to being pursued, or at least to engaging with people who were equally interested in her - and, it must be admitted, very like herself, used to getting what they wanted and unafraid to show it.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, if you’re going to be this useless all day just go over there and talk to her.” Sabrina’s voice broke her out of her self-pity, but Veronica hardly appreciated that, growling a little and glowering over her cup.

“What?”

Sis nodded, clearly agreeing with Sabrina. “You’ve been staring at her table for, like five minutes. It’s honestly a little depressing.”

“You look like someone set fire to your closet.”

“Thank you both for all your love and support through this trying time.” Veronica huffed, flipping her hair. “It was a minor setback, that’s all.”

“Hey, if she wants to hang out with two Glee rejects instead of you, I’m totally fine with it. Confused by your questionable taste in women, but fine with it. It gives me more time to plan what you’ll be buying for my fall wardrobe.”

“As if. There’s no way that’s ever going to happen. We Lodges don’t know the meaning of defeat.”

“I’ll add a dictionary to my list then.”

“Bitch.”

Sabrina smiled predatorily. “Not really. I’m such a good friend I’m motivating you to get off your fantastic ass and go talk to the girl you’re obsessed with before that second-rate John Green makes her the focus of his sexual awakening story.”

Melissa nodded. “And when she shoots you down we’ll help you through the difficult process of healing by spending a lot of money on clothes, parties, and really hot models.”

“ _ My  _ money.” Veronica grumbled, but took her support where she could get it. She was tired of fighting them on the subject anyway, and hadn’t quite reached the point where she wanted to talk to Betty with other people around. So she turned the conversation to what they’d covered in the first half-day, and the relative hotness/fashion choices of the professors. It was familiar territory, and thankfully Sabrina and Melissa went with her on it, recognizing her need to distance herself for a little bit from thoughts about Betty. 

It might have been frivolous conversation; at times, it was also mean and petty. But at the end of lunch Veronica felt renewed. She was  _ Veronica Lodge _ ; one of the chosen few, special, privileged. If she wanted someone, she would get her, and hang the rest of the world - or, if not quite the world, at least a certain blonde boy who had made her feel a moment of misplaced insecurity.

The last class of the day was also the only one in which they got any real work done. It was a creative writing course designed specifically for this six-week program, based around taking the works they were studying in other classes and using them to improve their own writing. 

“Writing is not for the meek or thin-skinned.” The professor had started off with, picking students at random in the crowd and fixing them with an imperious glare. “You have to be prepared for rejection at every turn. You have all taken biology by now, yes? Think of those frogs you dissected; that’s what it feels like every time you submit something to an editor.” Some students were in fact looking a little green, but Veronica ignored it. She was familiar with this teaching method - scare the hell out of the unworthy - and she was confident in the knowledge that it did not apply to her.

“You will prepare for this by submitting all of your writing assignments this summer for peer review and commentary. Each weekly assignment will be read aloud in front of the class. You will also be paired with your roommates on a final essay which will be due at the end of the summer. I expect - “ she paused and scanned the crowd “-I expect that you will apply all the lessons learned during the weeks ahead in crafting a truly exceptional final assignment. For this week, I want you to choose a moment from your favorite novel. How would the scene have changed if the main character had picked a different course of action? Re-write the scene to reflect your change, paying close attention to characterization and tone.” Another pause. “You may be dismissed to begin working on it.” Thirty backpacks opened noisily as students began stuffing laptops and notebooks into them, shoes and chairs squeaking against the laminate floor. “Email me with any questions you have and be prepared with your chosen scene tomorrow.”

Veronica met Betty at her chair, ignoring Casper, who seemed annoyed, and Brigitte, who didn’t seem to notice. “Hey B.”

Betty smiled. “Veronica, hey. This is Brigitte Reilly, and I think you know Casper?” Betty cursed herself a little. The introductions sounded so stilted, but what else was she going to do? When in an unfamiliar situation, she fell back on her mother’s training, which called for polite introductions all around, but right now she wished she could have thought of anything else to say. Well, maybe not anything, but something much cooler.

“Of course. Nice to see you, Casper. And to meet you too Brigitte.” Veronica, taken aback, felt just as awkward as Betty. Fortunately Brigitte seemed to have a firm grasp on the situation, and dragged Casper off with a murmured “Hey” to Veronica. Casper had told her everything, and she had a pretty fair idea that no good would come of sticking around those two until both Casper and, probably, Veronica had settled down from their little spat earlier.

“So.” Betty felt a bit exposed without Brigitte and Casper there, and laughed at herself a little. She and Veronica had fallen asleep in the same bed last night, there was really nothing to so worried about. “We should work on the assignment?”

“Yeah. Do you want to go back to the room or-?” ‘Get it together, Lodge.’ This had been so much easier in the middle of the night. 

“Why don’t we walk around a bit and find somewhere outside? It’s a beautiful day.”

“Sounds great.”

They strolled out of the building and wandered around the campus. Betty hadn’t overstated the weather; it  _ was  _ a beautiful day, bright and sunny but not too hot, with a warm, gentle breeze floating through the passageways between buildings. Insects droned in the background, accompanied every so often by music from passing cars or dorm rooms. It made Betty feel light and calm. Any day like this at home would have found her curled up taking a nap by the river, or helping Archie with his car, listening to old rock ‘n’ roll and smudging each other with grease. She wondered what kind of music Veronica liked, if she’d ever danced to Johnny B. Goode barefoot or used a socket wrench as a drumstick. Probably not, she smiled to herself.

“Is here good?” A hand on her arm shook Betty from her thoughts. Below them on the path was some kind of garden, rows upon rows of flowers abutting a carefully manicured piece of green lawn, all leading down to a small pond where Betty could just make out the lazily drifting shapes of koi.

“Perfect.”

Without removing her hand, Veronica led them to a spot near the pond where some low benches allowed them to sit without getting their clothes dirty. Betty started pulling out her notebook, to Veronica’s bemused look and an arched brow.

“What?”

“You don’t use a laptop?”

Betty blushed. “Studies show that you’re more likely to remember something if you write it down instead of using a laptop or a tablet. Besides-” She ran her fingers gently over an empty page “-there’s something nice about opening a new notebook, like this. All those empty pages waiting to be filled. It just makes everything seem so much more...real.”

Veronica’s gaze softened. She’d never met someone like Betty before. Someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, who wrote in a diary and imagined endless pages stretched out before her, a life just waiting to be filled with words. It seemed so simple -  _ she  _ seemed so simple - but each new detail revealed to Veronica made her eager for more. However, she thought, flipping open her laptop, she herself would be sticking to modern technology for now.

“So what’s your favorite book?” Betty asked, writing ‘Assignment Number 1’ in precise cursive at the top of the page.

“ _ Breakfast at Tiffany’s _ ,” Betty laughed. “What?”

“Nothing, I just-” She gestured to Veronica’s simple black dress and overlarge sunglasses. “It makes sense. I mean. I’ve never read it, but I’ve seen the movie.”

“The movie is great, don’t get me wrong. Audrey Hepburn is a total icon. But the book is better. More ‘real’.” She smiled, repeating Betty’s tone. “Honestly I have no idea how I can pick something from Capote and change it. That’s, like, sacrilege or something. What about you?”

“Oh.  _ Beloved _ , of course.”

Veronica wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

“It’s literally called the ‘Toni Morrison Summer Writing Seminar.’ I’m not here to learn how to write like James Joyce.” She laughed. “It was the first book of hers I read, last year. The way she uses words, the drive of the narrative...it’s incredible. If I had even half that talent-”

“You’d have won the Pulitzer twice over by now.” Veronica muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Veronica hesitated. “Do you - It’s a story of the impact of slavery on African Americans and the mental toll that dehumanization takes on multiple generations. Do you think that’s the kind of thing you can honestly change the narrative of?”

“Truman Capote wasn’t a teenage girl, either, but you’re okay with that.” Betty was being defensive, she was smart enough to recognize that, but she just didn’t understand where this line of questioning had come from.  _ Beloved  _ had changed the way she saw language, had opened up literature as a means of communication she’d never had before, and she felt like Veronica was challenging her right to that experience. “The heart of literature is shared humanity.”

“Right, but the body of  _ this _ literature is creating space for minority voices. You can’t just push yourself into that.”

“I’m not pushing myself into anything. It’s just a stupid assignment.”

“If it’s so stupid pick something else.”

“No.” Betty shoved her notebook back in her bag, swinging it wildly over her shoulder as she stood. “It’s my favorite book. I’m not going to let you make me ashamed of that.”

“Betty, wait.” The blonde’s long legs were quickly taking her away from the bench, but Veronica stayed put. Lodges did not chase after anyone. “Betty!” Calling, however, was apparently within the bounds of respectability. 

“Dammit.” Veronica cursed, mad at herself; mad at Betty. She should have just left it alone. What did she care if Betty wanted to appropriate Toni Morrison for a stupid class? It’s not like it was some kind of world-shattering event.

The thing was...she actually  _ liked _ Betty. More than just physical attraction, she liked talking to the other girl. Compared to the cynical self-centeredness of most of the people she knew back home, Betty was easy and kind, but with a deceptive wit and intelligence. She’d wanted to engage with that mind, and what had that gotten her? A pissed off roommate and a headache. Always being right was such a curse.

By the time Veronica made it back to the room the day had faded into a deep twilight, the seeds of dew heavy in the air and clinging to her skin. She had anticipated meeting Betty there. They would talk it out, she would make Betty see reason, and they would finish the episode of Gossip Girl they’d missed last night.

There was no tell-tale light under the door when Veronica walked up. No scratch of pen on paper or tapping of keys. No Betty. Sighing, Veronica flipped on the light and dropped her bag unceremoniously on the floor. She’d wandered into a study room, she honestly couldn’t recall where, and made a half-hearted attempt at the assignment. It would have to do, because there was no way she was going to give it any more thought tonight. What she really wanted was a drink, but she’d have to settle for trash tv. It was early to go to bed, but if that made her boring, so what. She was exhausted.

Netflix was asking her if she was still there, and Veronica was seriously considering the philosophical ramifications of that question, when the door cracked open and Betty stepped in. She wasn’t sneaking, exactly, but she didn’t seem to want to interact with Veronica, either, so with a little sigh Veronica snuggled into her pillow, deciding that pretending to be dead to the world was the course of action called for here. In the morning, they could deal with it, whatever ‘it’ turned out to be. In the morning, things would make sense.

But when morning came, Veronica was alone once again. The other girl apparently had an annoying habit of rising with the sun, which was honestly unfair and an insult to Veronica’s delicate sensibilities. It also meant that Betty was probably not over whatever state she’d worked herself into last night, and Veronica would either have to seek her out or be patient and let Betty come to her, two things which she very much did not want to do.

She wasn’t particularly hungry, but dressed and went to get breakfast anyway, avoiding the crowds and eating outside. She didn’t see Betty at breakfast, either, although she wasn’t trying very hard. It was nice to have a moment to herself, to regroup and prepare for the day. She walked to class, sitting in the same seat as before and scrolling idly down facebook as students trickled in. Still no Betty. She was almost getting desperate enough to send a text when a shadow fell over the desk. 

“You were right.” Betty slid into the seat next to Veronica.

“Of course I was.” The reply was sharp, but Betty was relieved that at least Veronica was looking at her now, and had angled her body towards her. She was surprised at how much she’d missed this intimacy between them; they’d only known each other a few days. “What made you change your mind?”

“I went to the library, after we fought. I couldn’t wait to get started. But then I sat down, and….nothing. I couldn’t do it. It’s not my story to tell.”

“Toni Morrison is a goddess and perfectly capable of telling her own story. That doesn’t mean you can’t learn from her. Just learn how to tell your story.” She was smiling now, and it swept Betty along with her. “The Betty Cooper story.”

“I don’t think it would be very exciting.”

“That’s just ‘cause you hadn’t met me yet.” Veronica winked. “What did you pick instead?”

“ _ Absalom, Absalom. _ ”

“Faulkner. Interesting.” One brow arched, and a smirk barely lifted Veronica’s lips. “I like Dark Betty.”

“Oh my God, stop.” Betty shoved Veronica’s arm off the desk, but she was laughing, too. She hadn’t realized how much this disagreement with Veronica had affected her, nor how much she apparently craved the other girls’ approval. She was glad it was all over and they were back to normal now.

“So Brigitte and Casper want to go see  _ Suicide Squad  _ on Friday, would you like to come along?”

“Of course, absolutely. What could possibly be more exciting than a topless Jared Leto with fake tattoos?”

“Well, we’re going late so they probably won’t kick us out if we talk the whole time and throw popcorn at the screen.”

“Why Betty Cooper. Faulkner  _ and  _ being a delinquent at a movie. Whatever shall we do with you?” She looked at Betty like she had a few definite ideas in that direction, and Betty blushed without really knowing why. Luckily, the professor walked in, saving Betty from further embarrassment.  _ So will you go? _ She scribbled in the margin of her notebook, angling it so Veronica could see. She could feel the other girl shaking her head, but Veronica simply took the pen from Betty’s hand, scrawling her reply in big, loopy letters.

_ Wouldn’t miss it for the world. _

 

* * *

Over the next several days, Betty and Veronica fell into a rhythm. The first two days had been filled with enough drama that both wanted to relax a little, settling into both their new friendship and the schedule of workshops. Sometimes they sat with each other, sometimes with their friends. They dined the same way, trying to carve out time for both parts of their lives. But the evenings, the evenings were reserved for the two of them alone.

They always started with high expectations, reading or writing diligently. But inevitably one or the other would laugh or make a silly comment and the serious atmosphere would be completely broken. For Betty, it was an incredible week. She missed home, of course she did, she missed her family and friends - she definitely missed Archie, she thought, enjoying the familiar flutter in her stomach when she thought of her skinny, ginger-haired best friend. But somehow all that seemed so far away when she and Veronica were rolling around on Veronica’s bed, laughing at cat videos on youtube or chatting about the day's’ lectures. It was really nice to be around someone who appreciated the written word as much as she did. She loved Archie to death, she really did, but he’d never cared much for reading. She’d almost come to expect the glazed-over look Archie got whenever she started talking about books from everyone else, too. But Veronica’s dark eyes were always bright and interested whenever she commented on a passage or spoke up in class. Veronica, with her quick wit and precise remarks. Veronica, who softened the biting (but funny) criticism she reserved for their classmates into gentle suggestions on Betty’s drafts. Veronica, who-

“We get it. She’s the bee’s knees, the cat’s pajamas, the best thing since sliced bread and fried oreos.”

Betty may have been the tiniest bit effusive in her praise for her roommate.

Casper looked grumpy, or slightly constipated, but then he always did these days and he absolutely refused to talk about it. Betty suspected that Brigitte knew what was going on, but she also avoided the subject when Betty was around. It hurt a little, knowing her new friends were keeping something from her, but she didn’t resent them. They’d known each other a lot longer than they’d known her, after all.

“What are we talking about?” Veronica fell into step with them, looping her arm through Betty’s. It was a beautiful night, so they’d decided to walk to the movie theater and take an Uber back later. Betty had suggested taking the bus, but the idea had been quickly quashed by the two scandalized New Yorkers, who seemed to think that any public transportation outside the City was a disaster movie waiting to happen.

“Nothing.” Casper replied, shaking his head. Betty was grateful; she wasn’t sure she actually wanted Veronica to hear all the acclaim she’d been heaping on her.

“That’s boring.” Scoffed Veronica, then launched into a discussion of the use of color in two of the pieces they’d been reading that week that nearly caused Betty’s jaw to drop.

Veronica was so  _ cool _ .

By the time they reached the ticket booth, though, Betty was beginning to re-think her previous statement. She hadn’t spent much time around both Veronica and Casper yet, and it was becoming apparent that they couldn’t stand each other. Betty had hoped that hanging out together would get them to see that they weren’t really that different, but all that had happened so far was a series of debates on every book Betty had ever read, and some she hadn’t even heard of. Whatever they were trying to prove, the other would take the opposite side, in some very nerdy game of one-upmanship. Even Brigitte, as calm and collected a person as Betty had ever met, was starting to get tired of it.

Through mutual understanding, Brigitte and Betty quickly separated Casper and Veronica on opposite sides of them, coordinating popcorn and soda choices so Betty and Veronica were sharing one bag and Brigitte and Casper the other, the better to keep the peace. It worked, too. Veronica was sufficiently distracted by Betty and the movie to stop bothering Casper, although she did seem to keep looking his way out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes Betty would catch her, but Veronica would quickly turn back to the screen or make some snarky comment.

It was hard for Betty to worry about it too much, both because she was having a lot of fun being at the movies with her new friends and because she was having a hard time getting used to having a friend who touched her so often.

Veronica was just a very tactile person. Betty had come to realize this, gradually, over the course of their week-long friendship. She grabbed Betty’s hand, or arm, or snuggled up to her watching Netflix, or rolled around with her on the bed. She blamed the lack of physical affection in her family for the way it always seemed so intense whenever Veronica was near her. It was just that she wasn’t used to it, the way her attention seemed to focus on whatever part of their bodies happened to be touching. 

It made Betty feel a little silly, this childish fixation on someone else's body. She told herself it was something she’d get over, and soon she’d be as comfortable with it as Veronica seemed to be. But here, in a dark theater, with their fingers meeting in between kernels of popcorn, Veronica’s hand flitting to her arm or thigh, it made Betty feel awkward, her reactions slow and heavy. About the fourth or fifth time Betty mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ as they reached for popcorn at the same time, Veronica had shushed her with a tight smile and one finger on Betty’s mouth. She licked her lips reflexively, tasting oil and salt.

By the end of the movie Betty was feeling almost angry with herself, restless and tight in her own skin. It would be too late to go for a jog, too bad, but she had so much nervous energy she could hardly sit still. Needing to pee since halfway through probably didn’t help, she realized as she stood up. 

“Meet you in the lobby.”

“You okay?” Veronica caught her wrist, looking up at her with concern in her eyes, and Betty felt a paradoxical urge to run away. 

“Yeah.” She smiled sheepishly instead. “Gotta use the restroom.”

Veronica allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk as she watched Betty disappear down the stairs. She could tell the other girl was nervous and jumpy, and hoped it had something to do with her. She’d been playing up the touches for all they were worth. Honestly, did Veronica Lodge look like the kind of girl who ate that much movie-theater popcorn? Hardly. But a little sacrifice was worth it for the look on Betty’s face when she’d pressed her finger to her lips. The poor girl looked like she’d swallowed her tongue.

“Proud of yourself, Ronnie?” Casper had pressed close to her in the crowd of people waiting to file down the steps and out of the theater. “You drove Betty off in a panic.”

“Shut up.” It was the best she could come back with without moving her mouth too much. She could feel Brigitte watching them, but they’d gotten separated by a family and she was still a few rows back. 

“I know you told me to back off and I will, but Betty doesn’t deserve whatever game you’re playing with her. She’s better than that.”

Veronica’s stomach twisted angrily and she regretted every single piece oily, fatty, buttery popcorn she’d ever eaten. Her body was betraying her, going against orders to make her feel flushed and nauseated. 

“I can’t wait until the moment she sees right through you. You can’t keep this up forever, you know. Eventually she’s going to find out what a bitch you are.”

Through the doors, the lobby up ahead. She couldn’t breathe.

“It’s who you are. You take and take and you don’t care who you step on, as long as you have fun. But Betty’s smart. I don’t need to tell her anything. It’s only a matter of time until you fuck it all up yourself. I only hope I’m there to -”

It happened in slow motion. Through waves of air and light, she saw the bag. Big, black, plastic, like the ones people used to collect leaves in their yards. Filled with popcorn instead. An idea, in and out of her mind so quickly that she barely had a grasp on it before her body was reacting. Step, pivot, slide. A high yelp of surprise. A boy pitching head-first into the bag. The syrupy-sweet feel of success, a familiar drug.

“Veronica!” Time seemed to slam into her in its hurry to speed up again. She turned, the high of victory draining out of her at the sight of Betty’s face, shadowed with anger and disappointment. 

“What is wrong with you?” Betty pushed past her, helping Casper to his feet. Veronica thought she could see him grinning.

“I didn’t - it was an accident!” She could fix this.

Brigitte had caught up to them now, brushing popcorn out of Casper’s hair and glaring at the both of them. Betty didn’t even seem to notice her, storming outside with Veronica chasing close on her heels.

“Veronica. I saw you trip him. I know you two didn’t like each other but how could you possibly think that was okay? You could have hurt him!”

“You don’t know what he said to me.”

“Please, tell me. What could he have said that would make you think that physical violence was justified?”

“I…” She trailed off.  Betty was...crying…

“He warned me. He told me you were like this, but I refused to believe him because you were so nice to me. Why? How can you be such a good friend to me and be so cruel to someone I care about?”

Betty thought she was a good friend?

Betty thought she was...cruel?

“Betty, look, he had it coming. He’s an asshole! He’s hated me since we met, he’s just looking for an excuse to get me to leave.”

But Betty was shaking her head. “If that’s how you treat people, just because you don’t get along with them...I thought you were better than that…”

“Betty…”

“I’m going to go back to see if Casper’s okay.” Her voice was tired, resigned, and that scared Veronica more than the anger had. “I just can’t...be around you right now.”

Veronica counted to ten in her head after Betty disappeared, found a convenient bush behind the theater, and violently threw up. The burn felt good, normalizing. 

“Ronnie! How’s your ‘date’, babe?” Sabrina’s voice was grating in her ear as she rummaged through her purse for a mint.

“You and Sis brought your fakes, right?”

“Of course, but-”

“Then why are we wasting a perfectly good Friday night? Find us some boys and a club. I need to get  _ fractured _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, this chapter kind of got away from me. A lot of things happening to our girls. But there were bound to be bumps in the road, right? The course of true love never did run smooth.
> 
> As always, tumblr @ryaninthesky12


	4. Chapter 4

The club, and the boys, had been easy to find. Compared to New York, they weren’t good, but Veronica didn’t need good. She just needed available. She needed a DJ who could drop a decent beat (he couldn’t, not really, but a continuous loop of top 40 songs wasn’t too hard to fuck up) and for everyone to back the fuck off and let her dance.

It wasn’t too much to ask, was it? She thought as she pushed away yet another large hand trying to circle her waist. Just a simple night out and someone vaguely attractive to bring her illegal drinks every once in awhile?

She supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. The boys were nice to look at, after all. Where Sabby had picked them up she didn’t know, but between songs she’d gathered that they were college students, fraternity pledges still in town for summer classes. She hadn’t talked to them much beyond that. They had names, probably, but she didn’t care to remember them. They were serving their purpose, and that was what mattered.

Only...

Veronica took a break from dancing to slide rather ungracefully into a booth. Her sweaty skin stuck to the cheap vinyl backing, and she could still feel the pounding bass like an undercurrent in her own pulse. She caught the eye of one of the boys and held up her hand, miming a drink. Luckily, he got the hint. She didn’t regard his intelligence too highly, but she appreciated how he simply nodded and headed for the bar. He was probably a decent guy when she wasn’t feeling like such a bitch.

She opened her purse and pulled out her phone, more from habit than anything else, and was surprised to see three missed calls, one voicemail, and two texts. All from Betty. She didn’t intend on calling or listening or replying or engaging in any way, but she couldn’t help but read the texts when they were right there on her lock screen.

 

Betty:  Where did you go?

Betty:  Be safe.

 

God  _ fucking  _ dammit. 

Why couldn’t the girl just leave her alone. That’s what she’d said, right? ‘I can’t be around you right now.’ Veronica could still see the cold and closed expression on Betty’s face as she’d spat the words at her. Like she was worthless. Like she, Veronica Lodge, wasn’t as good as some dumb blonde from some dumb small town in the middle of-

_ fUCK _

Her face fell into her hands. She couldn’t do it. She  _ wanted  _ to feel that righteous anger, to let go of whatever hold Betty had on her, but she couldn’t. Because Betty  _ wasn’t  _ dumb, Betty was worried about her. Betty sent texts to check up on her roommate even though she was mad at her. She could feel anger at Casper, for provoking her and being an overall dick, could hate him a little for how he’d been able to get under her skin so quickly. She could even hate herself, a little bit, for letting him. But she couldn’t hate Betty. 

It was like some sort of strange superpower that made her unhateable. Being angry at her would have been like kicking a puppy. No matter her faults, Veronica just didn’t have it in her.

It was a strange thing to have to accept about herself. She wasn’t sure she was even ready to, yet.

‘Went out drinking with Sabby. Back later.’ She knew Betty wouldn’t be happy about the insinuation that she was drinking because of their fight, but she was four drinks in and she wasn’t happy about it either. She sent the message before she could second-guess anything. 

Luckily, the boy had returned with her drink. Veronica didn’t need to know what was in it; she threw it back easily, throat moving around the stinging liquid. Vodka of some sort, cheap in a way she wasn’t used to. It seemed fitting.

She wasn’t nearly drunk enough, although not for lack of trying. It was just that the boys seemed to think they could stay and talk with her after each drink they brought, or tried to drag her out on the dance floor. 

This had been a mistake.

She thought it would help, a night clubbing with her friends, alcohol and music and pretty people. It always had before. But doing what she had always done, here, only invited the comparison to her nights in New York, and the college town couldn’t hope to measure up. It just left her homesick instead.

She fought her way over to Sabby, who was grinding on the dance floor with a muscular blonde. 

“This is boring. I’m going home.” She yelled in her ear.

Even in the dim light of the club she could make out Sabrina’s rolling eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you V? You drag us out on a Friday night to a club in a city where walking in a circle is considered a dance, and now you want to blow us off? I had a date!”

“You did? What about Harvey?”

“He’s not here, is he? And he hasn’t even called me all week.” She shrugged, hand running back up the boys arm.

Veronica thought she might hate Sabrina a little bit, too.

“I’m getting an Uber back. Tell Sis I’m leaving.”

“Whatever.” Sabrina was already turning back around.

The night had cooled considerably when she stepped outside, and she’d wished she’d brought a jacket. No way she was going back inside, though. There was no reason to ruin a good storm out. She’d keep the bouncer company instead. Or maybe…? She eyed a group of guys smoking cigarettes and talking softly on the street corner, but quickly dismissed the idea of bumming a smoke. Guys who looked like that hit on girls who looked like her, or expected more for their money. She just didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now.

By the time the Uber pulled up, Veronica had decided that the bouncer had won for her favorite person at the club. After asking if she needed him to call a ride, he hadn’t said anything to her at all. The prize had been a hundred dollar bill pressed into his hand just before she disappeared into the back seat of the sleek black car.

It was almost two when Veronica stumbled back into their room, barely bothering with her clothes and makeup before sinking into blissful unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Betty never looked back after leaving Veronica outside the movie theater. After ten steps, she wanted to, desperately. After fifteen, and nearly to the door, she had slowed down considerably. She was waiting for Veronica to catch up to her, to watch her huff and roll her eyes but to see sincerity there, too, when she came back with her to apologize to Casper.

She didn’t look back because she was afraid of what she wouldn’t see.

By the time she’d pushed through the crowd of people leaving the theater and over to Casper and Brigitte, she’d given up on Veronica.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure.” Casper grinned wryly. “Popcorn is surprisingly cushiony.”

Betty shook her head. She appreciated his attempts to brush off the incident with humor, but she herself wasn’t quite at that place yet. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You warned me, though. You told me what she could be like - what she  _ is  _ like. And I wouldn’t listen.” She ran a hand over her face in shame. “I thought I knew more about her in a week than you could in several years.”

Brigitte tried to wrap an arm around Betty in a comforting hug, but she ducked out of it. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s probably some blame to go around on both sides, isn’t there, Cas?” She shot him a meaningful look, and he shifted on his feet nervously.

“Yeah. I mean, I could have been nicer to her.”

“It still doesn’t excuse what she did. And what’s worse, I don’t even think she’s sorry she did it.”

“Maybe she just needs some time to come around.” Brigitte soothed, shepherding them towards the doors. She kept up a quick patter of commentary on the movie, trying to distract Betty from thoughts of her roommate. After a few minutes, Casper joined in as well. It kept the walk home from seeming too much like a funerary procession, but Betty couldn’t bring herself to join in. She felt like such an idiot, both for believing in Veronica in the first place and her actions now. Casper was the one who had been wronged, and here he was trying to cheer her up. She should just let it go, if he had. But she missed the person she thought Veronica was. How could she reconcile the girl who saved her muffins when she was too late for breakfast and wrote little notes on her papers for class with the girl who could remorselessly try to hurt one of her friends? She felt the loss keenly.

“...Betty?”

“Sorry?”

“We’re at your room.” Brigitte still looked concerned, so Betty curved her lips in a smile and fluttered her hands vaguely.

“It’ll look better in the morning, once everyone’s had a chance to sleep on it.” Brigitte promised. “Try to relax, okay?”

“Yeah.” Betty replied. “I guess I’m just tired. Lunch tomorrow?” 

Casper nodded. “I’ll text you.”

Veronica wasn’t in the room, so Betty glanced at her phone. It had been on silent because of the movie, so maybe...but no. Nothing from Veronica.

Her stomach lurched a little thinking of all the things that could happen to a girl alone in an unfamiliar city, but she forced those thoughts aside. Veronica was smart. Just because she didn’t call Betty didn’t mean she hadn’t called one of her other friends. And besides, Betty told herself firmly, she was still mad at her.

She made herself get changed, turn off the light, and get into bed before she called the first time. No answer.

She very resolutely waited fifteen minutes before calling again, with the same result.

She checked her phone to see if she had Sabrina’s or Melissa’s numbers, cursed herself for never bothering to get their contact information, and left a voicemail this time.

“Veronica, where are you? I mean...I…” she hadn’t thought this through very well. “Just let me know you’re okay.”

She sent two texts, just in case.

Twenty minutes later her phone buzzed with Veronica’s reply. Short and totally impersonal. So Veronica was still mad at her.

Fine. If she wanted to go off and get drunk and do God knows what else, that was none of Betty’s business. Veronica could just do whatever, and damn the consequences, apparently.

Betty tossed and turned for an hour, trying in vain to get her brain to shut up and let her sleep. Finally she got up with a growl, stalking out the door and then back, dropping a note on Veronica’s desk. She slipped back into bed disgusted with herself, but almost instantly able to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“So do you want to tell me what happened back there?” Brigitte was walking Casper back to his room. 

“Veronica Lodge is a bitch?”

“Somehow I doubt that’s the whole story.”

Casper sighed, but he’d known her long enough that she’d get it out of him one way or another. “I might have said some things about how totally unfit she was to be Betty’s friend.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on Brigitte’s lips. “So someone finally got tired of you being a total ass. It was bound to happen. What’s your deal with her anyway? I know she went all first season Quinn Fabray on you, but you’ve been talking shit about her since before that.”

Casper’s eyes hardened, and he pulled her into a common room. At that time of night, all the students were either asleep or still out breaking curfew.

“You don’t know these people, Brig. They aren’t like us. Someone like Veronica, she’ll tear Betty apart and never even realize she’s doing it. Betty deserves better than that.”

She looked at him with sudden understanding and he ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes.

“Just like you did, right?”

“It was what it was.” He ground out. “I got through it, but it killed a part of me. That kid from Centerville, who thought strangers were just friends you hadn’t met yet?” He laughed bitterly. “That kid’s a ghost. I don’t want that to happen to Betty.”

“You should tell Betty you were provoking her, Cas. Veronica’s not them. And I think you’re giving Betty too little credit.” She smirked. “Maybe she’ll rub off on her.”

Casper rolled his eyes, but was smiling as he did it. “That’s just what I’m afraid of.” 

 

* * *

 

When Veronica woke up in the morning - closer to lunch, really - Betty was gone, but she rolled over and noticed a glass of water and two pills on her desk. Underneath was a note, slightly damp with condensation.

‘Take this, you idiot - B’

Well, Betty probably wasn’t going to poison her, Veronica thought, chasing the pills with the water. And even if she were death would be preferable to the pounding in her head that had announced its presence as soon as she sat up.

Showered and dressed, Veronica was glad Betty was gone. The thought of facing her when she’d gone off in a huff and Betty had gone out of her way to make sure she was ok - she didn’t know what she could say. Especially since she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

She chose instead to hole herself up in the nearest library. When you’re too ashamed to face one set of friends and the others are still mad at you for ditching, you bury yourself in a book and hope for the best. Veronica had chosen Kurt Vonnegut’s  _ Galapagos _ , in the hope that a story about stranded humans evolving into furry penguins wouldn’t remind her of any of the events that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours.

 

_ “That, in my opinion, was the most diabolical aspect of those old-time big brains: They would tell their owners, in effect, ‘Here is a crazy thing we could actually do, probably, but we would never do it, of course. It’s just fun to think about.’ _

_ “And then, as though in trances, the people would actually do it.” _

 

Or maybe not.

She kept reading, though, because the idea that humans a million years in the future wouldn’t get themselves in the kind of trouble she had was a comforting thought. It was warm in her little spot, curled up like a cat, and she was just dozing off when someone plucked the book out of her drooping hand. She started awake.

Betty was standing in front of her, eyes unreadable. 

“Hey.”

Veronica pulled her knees closer to her chest. The movement freed enough room on the couch for Betty to sit down.

“Hey.”

Betty played with the pages of the book as if she didn’t quite know what to say, which was good, because neither did Veronica. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks for the medicine.”

Betty nodded, but stayed silent.

“I shouldn’t have left without tell you where I was going.” She tried again.

“No, you shouldn’t have, but I - I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Before I knew the whole story.” She flicked her eyes to Veronica’s, then back to the book. “Casper told me he what he said to you.”

“Oh.” Veronica wondered if he’d told her the whole truth, or some of it, or none of it. “I shouldn’t have -” the words stuck in her throat, but she swallowed and forced them out. “I shouldn’t have tripped him.” 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” Betty stood up, and Veronica noticed absently that she’d lost her place, an earlier page bookmarked under slender fingers. “Think about it, okay?” Betty moved her hand slightly, and Veronica wondered if she was going to touch her. The thought burned in the corners of her eyes.

“Did you get lunch? And be sure to drink water.”

Veronica smiled. “Thanks, WebMD.”

Betty didn’t smile back, but the air between them felt lighter. Veronica felt like they could move in it, now.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.”

Veronica’s eyes followed Betty until she disappeared between the stacks, then picked up her book and opened it to the dog-eared mark. It was the first page, a quote from Anne Frank.

 

“ _ In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart. _ ”

 

Thirty minutes later, Veronica had gotten through about three pages. She wasn’t really surprised when she heard a throat clear and looked up to see that Casper had appeared before her.

“Did Betty send you?”

He shrugged ruefully. “She likes to fix things.”

“She said I needed to apologize to you.”

“It would be nice. If it helps I’ll go first and show you how it’s done. I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you.”

“I’m sorry I tripped you into a giant bag of popcorn, hilarious though it may have been.”

Casper barked a laugh. “Yeah, ok. I’ll take it. I told Betty I might have said some things to provoke you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I realized I didn’t want to be like you. Are you really sorry?”

Veronica considered this. She was sorry Betty was mad at her. But was she sorry that she’d tripped him in the first place? “Not really” He’d deserved it.

“Then why are you apologizing?”

Her eyes widened. It was obvious, of course, because Betty wanted her to. But that reason seemed incomplete somehow. 

“Betty told me to.” She answered.

Casper smiled. “She has that effect on people.”

 

* * *

 

Veronica and Casper joined Betty and Brigitte for lunch on Sunday, and Brigitte grinned up at them as they set their trays down.

“Did you two kiss and make up?”

They both immediately looked ill.

“Please don’t say that ever again.” Casper begged.

“Finally something we agree on.” Veronica added, sitting down next to Betty.

“We have reached a detente.”

“Thank God.” Brigitte said, stealing a french fry off of Casper’s plate. “Now we can talk about the really important stuff; do you think Prof. Strand will let me play my guitar for the next assignment?”

Casper protested indignantly about the theft of his fry, threatening to break into ‘Food, Glorious Food,’ from Oliver if Brigitte kept stealing from him. Betty just smiled, happy that two of her favorite people were getting along. She placed a hand on Veronica’s thigh, leaning in so her lips just caught the edge of her ear.

“I’m proud of you.”

Veronica blushed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick update, because I got inspired and because today is Riverdale day with no Riverdale. If you enjoy, please comment. If not, please never tell me. I'm fragile, lol.


	5. Chapter 5

_ Dear Diary _

_ I’m sorry I haven’t been writing for a few days; it’s not that I haven’t had the time. I blame Veronica. As soon as I sit down to write she always has a video to show me or some comment on a passage that just can’t wait. I haven’t had a problem finding time to write since Polly and I shared a room, but it’s kind of nice. I mean, it really feels like she values my opinion and wants to share things with me. It might just be because we share a room, but after last week we’ve become really good friends. It’s crazy, to think we’ve only know each other a week. It feels like forever! I know we’ve fought a little, but ever since the weekend Veronica’s gone out of her way to be nice. Well, out of her way in a Veronica way, I suppose, but she and Casper aren’t antagonizing each other any more at least.  _

_ It’s so nice to have a friend that isn’t a boy. Archie and Juggie are great, but there are definitely some things they just don’t get. Archie isn’t really into reading, anyway, and Jughead has been so weird since school ended. I don’t think even Archie knows what’s going on. But you know about all that already. Veronica is just so- _

 

“Bettttyyy.”

Betty looked up from her diary to see Veronica laying upside down on her bed, throat bare and hair falling down in waves towards the floor. It also gave Betty a worryingly unobstructed view of the other girl’s cleavage, reminding her of a time in middle school when she and her mother had been in a store trying on clothes. There had been an older girl there, a high school student, in a tank top and shorts, and she could still feel her mother’s vituperative comments on the other girl’s appearance. She blushed, wishing she could get her mother out of her head long enough to just hang out with a friend. She was sure that other people wouldn’t even notice these things, and it embarrassed her that Veronica could be so comfortable around her when she couldn’t stop noticing every time the other girl changed clothes or sat with her legs too far apart or sprawled on the bed like that. She wished she could be normal, like everyone else.

“Bettttyyyyyyyy.” Veronica whined again.

“What’s up?”

“I’m bored.” Veronica pouted, but it lost some of its impact upside-down.

“We have homework, you know.”

“You’re not doing it?”

“No, but you could be. If you’re so bored.”

“But it’s boring too.” Veronica flipped over so she was right-side up again, wincing a little as the blood rushed away from her head. “Besides, you’re not doing the homework. What are you writing about, anyway? Boys?” She grinned. “Girls?”

“No!” Betty quickly closed the diary anyway. “About you, actually.”

“Why Betty. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Not like that!” She sighed, exasperated. “Just, you know, about what we’ve been doing and class.”

“Ugh. So you’re writing about reading we’ve done? That’s even more boring than actually doing the writing. I thought people were supposed to write their deepest, darkest secrets in their diaries.”

“Hey!” Betty protested. “I have secrets!”

“Never said you didn’t, B.” She sat up, smiling in way that made Betty swallow and feel more than a little nervous. “But now that we’re on the subject…”

“I don’t think we were, actually…”

“It comes to my attention that we haven’t yet had any girl talk…”

“We are girls, so...”

“So Betty Cooper.” Veronica prowled towards Betty, trapping her in her chair with her arms firmly on each side of the desk. 

“..therefore…uh….” It was very hard to keep up a conversation with Veronica’s perfume surrounding her like that “...all our talk is girl talk…”

“Tell me a secret.”

‘I’m going to have a panic attack if you don’t back the heck up,’ probably wasn’t the secret Veronica was fishing for. Too bad it was the only thing Betty could think of.

“I...uh...I mean.”

“C’mon B. Haven’t you ever done anything  _ bad _ ?”

One time, in the third grade, she’d cut off Cheryl Blossom’s ponytail. When she was twelve, she and Archie had stayed out too long and she’d been grounded for two weeks. Her mother took sleeping pills and occasionally Betty looked at them too long. She had pills, too, but she didn’t take those. Almost a year ago she’d broken her mom’s favorite faux-Tiffany lamp and blamed Polly for it. There were little half-moons pressed into her palms sometimes.

“W-well…” 

Veronica leaned back, her lips still smirking but her eyes blank. “Hey. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. No big deal.”

Betty was caught in a curious mix of relief that Veronica had finally given her some space and desperation to prove that she was worthy of Veronica’s attention. 

“No, I mean.” She blushed and looked down. “I’m sure my life’s been pretty boring compared to yours.”

“Probably.” Veronica’s eyes were smiling again. “But it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Betty. Please. You’re hanging out with  _ the  _ Veronica Lodge. And as your friend and roommate I will take it upon myself to be the best bad influence you’ve ever had.”

“Oh no.” Betty laughed and rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Sounds like trouble. Whatever shall I do?”

“Bad things. Things where when you’re old we’ll look back on them and wonder what the hell we were thinking. Things worthy of diary entries.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“As serious as Casper’s need for a new wardrobe.”

“What’re you thinking?” There was only so much trouble two teenage girls could get into, after all.

“Nothing too exciting...just a little midnight stroll.”

“You want to break curfew?”

Veronica arched a brow. “I’ve done it, like, twice in the first week. I don’t know why this surprises you”

“Fine.” Betty amended. “You want  _ me _ to break curfew?”

“Correction.  _ We  _ are going to break curfew.”

“I don’t think-” 

“Betty, darling, this is like the least exciting bad thing you can do. It is only exciting now because you will be with me and I am amazing.”

“But what if we get caught?”

“Then we start crying.”

Betty laughed, startled. “What?”

“It’s the ultimate out. No one wants to deal with a crying girl. They’ll give us some crap warning, tell us not to do it again, and send us to bed. It’s foolproof.” Veronica shrugged on a dramatic black cape - honestly, who wore something like that and could get away with it - and started tugging Betty towards the door. “So let’s go.”

“Ronnie I’m not sure…” But Betty’s protests didn’t stop her from letting Veronica pull her out of the room. The truth was, she was curious. It was  _ exciting _ , breaking the rules a little bit, and Veronica seemed so sure of herself. As she had said, she’d done it before with no consequences, so maybe, this time, Betty could too. 

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just see what we find.” Veronica put her finger to her lips and sneaked through the dorm. Betty didn’t think that was strictly necessary, but she appreciated the theatricality, grinning when Veronica waved her out of the dorm. 

“Pick a direction.”

They both looked the same to Betty - dark and lonely - but she waved vaguely down one concrete path and Veronica set off, looping her arm through Betty’s. They walked in silence for a few minutes, nothing around them but the low drone of insects.

“So this is your idea of showing a girl a good time?” Betty teased.

“Oh trust me,” Veronica’s eyes were black in the low light. “When I’m showing a girl a good time, she knows it.”

Betty’s retort died in her throat. She wondered, not for the first time, how true Casper’s comment was about Veronica’s sexuality, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask. They passed a lamppost  and Betty could see the light dancing in Veronica’s eyes again.

“But I will admit it was a lot easier to make bad decisions in the city.” Her voice was wistful. It made Betty smile, to hear the almost homesick note; Veronica seemed like a girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but Betty was coming to realize that that was all a careful front to protect the things she truly cared about. 

“Tell me about it?”

Veronica paused. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. New York is...it’s incredible. No matter what you want to do, or eat, or see, it’s all there waiting for you. The best in the world. The clubs. The people. I’d never get bored of New York.”

“Sounds amazing. A big Saturday night in Riverdale is going up to Makeout Point after the drive-in.”

“You actually have a place called  _ Makeout Point _ ?” 

“Yeah, it’s just over the river, it’s got a great view of..the…” She trailed off. Veronica was looking at her in mute disbelief. 

“Do you also have a quirky diner and a cult of creepy hooded figures?”

“They’re really not too bad as long as you don’t try to go to the dog park.” Veronica’s eyebrows shot up. “Kidding! I’m kidding. Obviously.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize you lived in a time warp from the 1950s.”

“It’s not  _ that  _ bad.”

“Do you have a Starbucks?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ok, I’ll admit that  _ sometimes _ it feels like I’m going to be in high-school forever. But we’re not too far from the beach, and skiing in the winter, and it’s kind of nice not to have all the corporate chain stores everywhere. Riverdale has character.”

“Yeah, where exactly is Riverdale again?”

“It’s-”

“Heeyyyyy ladies! Come over and party with us!”

Betty jerked her head up at the interruption. They hadn’t really been paying attention to where they were going, just wandering around, but she was now very aware that they were passing by a row of houses, their massive greek letters marking them as frat houses. Several guys were standing in the front yard of one house in shorts and tank tops, clearly drunk. Two were playing beer pong, while a third was waving at Betty and Veronica with his solo cup, losing quite a lot of beer in the process.

“Ronnie…” For some totally unknown and terrible reason, Veronica had stopped walking. Betty tied to tug her forward, but she was staring hard at the yelling man. “C’mon, let’s go.” No response. “Ronnie.” Betty tried again. 

When Veronica did move, it wasn’t to escape back the way they’d come or ignore the interloper and continue walking, which is what Betty would have considered the sanest and safest course of action. No, instead she had to wink - wink! - at Betty while sauntering up to the frat boy, who honestly looked a little surprised. 

“Hey baby, special this night only. Free beer for beautiful women.” He clearly had recovered quickly. As if to illustrate his point about the beer he continued waving the cup in Veronica’s face.

“You know…”

“Jake.” He helpfully supplied.

“Jake.” Betty watched in dumbfounded horror as Veronica put on a sultry expression, standing so as to subtly accentuate the curves of her body. “It’s so nice of you to invite us to your little…” she paused a moment, laying eyes on each of the other men to make sure they were included in her sphere “..soiree.”

The first boy - Jake - looked as if he wanted to ask a few questions on that point, but Veronica stopped him, gently placing her hand on the still-wavering solo cup.

“However, I’m afraid we must decline.”

Betty was still trying to work out what had happened when Veronica ran by her, shouting “go go go go GO!” and grabbing her hand on the way past. Automatically turning to follow the brunette, she couldn’t resist a glance backwards at the sopping wet face, tank top, and shorts of one very shocked and beer-less Jake.  

They ran until Betty’s lungs were burning and it hurt more to breathe than to laugh; they gave up on the latter and embraced the former, falling against each other on at the base of a tree. 

“Ohmigod.” Betty gasped, when she could force out the words. “Ohmigod.” Well. It was only one phrase, but it covered the bases.

“Did you….” an eruption of giggles “...see his face!”

“He’s probably still wondering what soiree means.” That produced a fresh round of laughter, Betty collapsing against Veronica’s side. “I can’t believe you did that, Ronnie, that guy was twice your size!”

“Please. What kind of bad influence would I be if I didn’t get us into - and out of, thank you very much - some death-defying adventure?”

Betty smiled, utterly charmed by the idea that Veronica would stand up to a two-hundred-plus-pound college student, no matter how drunk, all in the name of showing her a good time. “The  _ best  _ bad influence.”

Veronica inhaled sharply, her mouth curling but not quite achieving a smile. In the sudden silence Betty became aware of how closely they were pressed together. Somehow, she’d forgotten to be embarrassed, but realizing that only made her more conscious of the situation. Her thoughts spiralled as she searched in vain for something to say, something to pull her out of herself, but could only stare at Veronica blankly, chest laboring with short, shallow breaths. Veronica’s face seemed to glow in the soft ambient light, lips parted and cheeks flushed with their exertions. Deep in her brown eyes, flecks of gold shined, as if the glowing lights were caught within rather than reflected without. Betty wished she would speak, break the spell, because she was beginning to get dizzy and her ears didn’t seem to be working properly, filled with a pounding static. 

_ ‘During a panic attack, hyperventilation and adrenaline can cause dizziness, tunnel vision, flushing, and heart palpitations.’ _ Repeating the slightly clinical words of her therapist helped her feel more in control. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. In. Count. Out. 

“Hey.” Betty still didn’t open her eyes; she could guess what she would see. Pity, maybe. Definitely discomfort. She trusted Veronica enough now to not laugh, but that wasn’t to only way for her to get hurt. 

“Bets?” She felt a tentative hand on her shoulder, just a light touch and then gone. “Hey, it’s okay. They didn’t follow us or anything, I promise. Just breathe. We’re okay.”

“It’s not - I’m okay.” Betty relaxed her shoulders with a conscious effort, only now noticing the familiar bite of tightly-clenched fists. She loosened her fingers, but kept them curled into her palms, hoping Veronica wouldn’t notice. 

“Is it okay if I…” Veronica trailed off, softly pressing a hand to Betty’s chest, right above her racing heart. She shrugged at Betty’s questioning glance. “It always helps me. If I’m upset.” Her eyes searched Betty’s face, but she couldn’t tell if Veronica found what she was looking for. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, promise.” She smiled and winked. “Well, not too bad.”

Betty was shocked to find she believed her.

 

* * *

 

“Would it kill them to have a little variety?” Veronica asked the assembled group as she slid into a chair the next day. “Maybe just more than one type of salad lettuce?”

“That’s sounds fascinating, Veronica, and I’mma let you finish, but we’re doing Betty’s thing now.”

“Oh?” Veronica raised an eyebrow, too intrigued to be offended - although it was a close thing. Betty was blushing furiously, shaking her head and trying to fend off the attention with her hands. “No, nope, I have no things. What about the salads, Ronnie?”

“Betty was just about to tell about her  _ hopelessly romantic _ crush on the boy-next-door.” Casper grinned and Veronica felt her stomach drop. Angrily she tried to get a hold on herself. What did it matter if Betty had a crush on some stupid boy in her stupid hometown? It didn’t change anything at all; she had had flings with plenty of girls who had actual boyfriends, never mind crushes. Hell, she would never even meet him. It absolutely did not matter.

Still, a shudder passed through her, as haunting and unseen as wind through the trees.

“I knew you had secrets.” She forced a smile in Betty’s direction.

“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Brigitte added.

“Fine, fine.” Betty laughed awkwardly. “His name is Archie.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I don't sit down thinking 'Betty's going to have a panic attack whenever Veronica gets too close' it just kind of happens. So I cannot be blamed ;)


End file.
